


the dead shouldn't need to worry (but he does anyway)

by transtwinyards



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (or the contemplation of it), Character Study, Death, Light Angst, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/pseuds/transtwinyards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> After sticking to something for so long, it's hard to remember what you were like before it and be that again. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>That was how Noah felt about getting brought back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dead shouldn't need to worry (but he does anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> A character study on our dear Noah Czerny. I'm surprised by the lack of fics about Noah's thoughts on everything, so in the spur of the moment, I made this.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!

_After sticking to something for so long, it's hard to remember what you were like before it and be that again._

That was how Noah felt about getting brought back to life. Being dead pushed away all the responsibilities that Noah would have worried about if he was still alive. Things like sustenance, looks, hygiene. Was it okay to fail this exam, or to not go to this class? When was it okay to drive to some random cliff-face and get high with Barry again? What bottle was he going to slip away from his mother's stash?

Being dead, Noah had to think about things like energy conservation, remembering his own name, or hanging onto his essence.

Noah had to worry about when Blue was okay enough to touch. Or when Blue wanted to get away from her noisy family house. Or if she wanted to be away from everything that tied her down. Together, they went to arcades. They danced around bridges. They would swear to walk all the way to Cabeswater, before aborting when they crossed the Dollar City, or Goodwill, or an animal shelter.

Noah had to worry about when and if Ronan was going to be reckless during nights. He had to worry about if the other needed his ghostly companionship.

That restless and aloof Ronan, so lonesome he was in his trouble-hunting. It was because trouble didn’t find him as easy as it did before, not after Kavinsky. During these nights (and the rest of the time he spent with Ronan), Noah found the appeal of the lack of thought. The appeal of the high that Ronan looked for in racing during late evenings or early mornings.

Sometimes, he would ride out with Ronan, when Gansey was asleep. The both of them would drive to the 24-hour convenience store that Adam worked in. Ronan would order orange juice for himself and Noah. And since Noah didn't need to eat or drink, his juice box went to Adam, and they would all have a nice, silent time.

(Noah knew, and Ronan knew that Noah knew. Still, they would all have a nice, silent time.)

Noah had to worry about when and if he could sit in the middle of Gansey's model of Henrietta. To show him some of the knick-knacks from Ronan's room of dream wonders. He had to worry about when he could make Gansey laugh by saying something Ronan would. And about if he could comfort Gansey, and make him remember how to be human. Remember how to want things without thinking about consequences of being foolish. Make him forget about death, or slumbering Welsh kings, if only for a while.

Noah had to ponder on when and if he could surprise Adam in St. Agnes. When he could attempt to read through the other's textbooks during cozy nights. Nights after Adam got home from either Cabeswater's requests or his jobs. Noah had to ask if Adam allowed him to just lay on the threadbare mattress on the floor. And then he would talk, and talk, and talk. Talk about how Ronan or Gansey was doing.

(Adam never did like them mentioned together. Noah found that Adam was fonder of listening about all things Ronan Lynch. Noah _knew_.)

Being dead, Noah couldn't think for himself for the most time. Thinking about his friends was easier, because wondering about his past was going to make him lose it. 

His essence, it was Cabeswater's consolation prize. He always lost a good deal of it if he ever thought of his past. Dwelling was for ghosts, and Noah was only half a ghost.

The forest gave him this, this half-life, and gave life to Gansey. Noah wasn't angry about it, was unable to be angry about anything.

Gansey deserves life. It made Noah frustrated that Gansey always thought he didn't. He did.  Noah was certain that one of these days, Gansey would have to get it. He had to, Noah thought, and Blue always agreed with him on this point, though not that she would ever say it out loud.

 

A question, asked by everyone in the group so many times: what do dreams do when you weren’t there to see them? The answer to this, Noah thought, was the same if you asked: what do ghosts do when you live?

What _did_ Noah do when everyone around him had lives to live? Noah did as he had always done. The difficult part was that he never did anything before.

He could never remember what he did before he had friends. Neither could he ever remember if he even lived his half-life before he had a reason to. No one, not even Noah, could go back to what they don't remember.

This, perhaps: Noah in Cabeswater, inviting himself in to be where he was corporeal for once. Here, he could roam time itself and never feel lonely. Here, he could visit Aurora Lynch.

Dreams and ghosts, together. To him, it made no difference. What was a dream, if not the ghost of something you wanted?

"How's everyone?" Aurora would ask as she embraced him. She always embraced Noah like her own son. If Noah had a physical heart, it would have swelled with happiness.

"Same old, same old," Noah would reply. This was always the intro to their meetings. Aurora would ask about the others, and Noah would tell them that it was still the same as always. Aurora would lead him to sit by a tree, and Noah would sit with her in comfortable silence.

Time in Cabeswater was time to worry about himself. Which meant that it was actually time to start worrying about everyone all at once. It was hard to not think about someone if you loved them so much.

(Some people, all of them.)

There was no doubt that Noah loved everyone in their circle of friends. Blue, Adam, Gansey, and Ronan. He loved them all, and they all loved each other back. It was that kind of special.

Soon enough, he’d notice that Aurora had wandered off back into the trees. And he’d be there by himself.

 _Lonesome_. That was a word that Adam usually described himself as. Noah couldn't find a word more fitting for himself.

Noah Czerny was lonesome even when he was with his friends. He was dead, and they were alive. Everyone in the group had something special, but the distinction was clear. Noah would never be one of them as long as he was dead. At the very least, he couldn’t care less about the difference.

It didn’t make him feel any less lonesome.

* * *

 

Gansey was going to use his favor to bring Noah back to life.

Noah wanted to protest, to shake Gansey out of it. Noah was never going to be fully alive after seven years of death. Noah has done nothing to gain some celestial favor like that. Gansey has spent seven years of his life searching for it.

“Noah?” a voice called out. Noah had no idea how this corporeal shit works, but it works in the worst of times. He was currently located under the pool table, as per usual. It was cozy there. It was probably cleaner than the floor of the bathroom/kitchen/laundry room. “Noah.”

Noah looked up through his bangs, and if he were still alive, he would have thought of getting a haircut. As it turns out, he wasn’t, so he wouldn’t. Gansey crouched down in front of him, brow creased with worry.

Noah reached out to wipe it off, knowing that it was a gesture that Gansey would appreciate. From the surge of warmth that came up his arm, Gansey did.

“Are you okay?” Gansey asked, taking a seat in front of him.

Noah shrugged, because no answer would be appropriate. Noah was dead. Gansey wanted Noah to be alive. Noah didn’t know if he wanted to be alive. He shouldn’t want to be alive. He shouldn’t want to be dead either.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gansey asked, because he was Gansey, and he wanted to help everyone. Noah reached forward to touch Gansey’s hand, and Gansey offered it to him. With steady, solid fingers, he traced Gansey’s palm as softly as he could.

“I’m not sure you want to,” answered Noah. Sometimes he wished everyone knew what he was feeling too. It would have been easier than having to say stuff like this. Easier than having to formulate words that didn’t formulate easily enough anymore.

Gansey kept his eyes on his palm, kept his hand up by his knee. “Let’s not make this about me. I want to know what’s bothering _you_.”

Noah dropped his hand. Gansey kept his up. “Then I don’t know how to say anything,” Noah replied. “Because what’s bothering me is about you. Which is weird because it’s also about me.”

Gansey was silent for a moment, and Noah hoped desperately that he would just disappear from Gansey’s view again. Gansey met his eyes, which meant he hasn’t disappeared yet. “Okay then,” he said. “Tell me about it anyway.”

Noah didn’t know if he was frustrated or fond of Gansey. “Don’t use your favor on me.”

Gansey kept his eyes on Noah. Noah wanted to be a stereotypical ghost so that he could sink down onto the first floor of Monmouth. He was unnerving. Gansey was unnerving a ghost. Noah wanted to laugh.

“I can’t promise you that,” Gansey said, and Noah sighed in resignation.

“I figured as much,” Noah muttered. And he didn’t know how he was sure, but this time, he faded out from Gansey’s view. But he stayed under the pool table until Gansey sighed and walked off.


End file.
